


Graces Beyond the Earth

by Galaxxi, OMsRandomWriter



Series: Reincarnation? Reincarnation [1]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood Magic, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Hi i lied, I Blame Tumblr, I'm just realizing I'm putting in several OCs to make this work, Lots of Angst, Quite Literally, Remembering previous lives, Rituals, Self-Harm, Soulmates, What Have I Done, demonic rituals, mentions of death/dying, there's angst, they're all one big happy family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-03-25 18:41:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13840695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galaxxi/pseuds/Galaxxi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/OMsRandomWriter/pseuds/OMsRandomWriter
Summary: Or alternatively known as How Joey Drew Said “Fuck You” to Death and Reincarnated Everyone He Loves.Modern Day/Reincarnation AU of ask-joeydrewstudios.tumblr.com ; co-author Galaxxi b/c she’s an amazing gal and mod of ask-joeydrewstudios





	1. Opening

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [ask-joeydrewstudios](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/360813) by Galaxxi. 



“ _Promise me… Promise me that you’ll take care of them,_ ”

Jolting away, Josiah “Joey” Davis threw his legs over the edge of the bed and stared at the masses of sketches that lined his walls and desk. Standing and heading to his closet door, he found himself studying his body, as if he was just suddenly expecting himself to age fifty some odd years in a blink of an eye.

At least his eyes were the same, he realized as he stared into the mirror, half wishing Bendy would pop up behind him, asking “ _Did I get you Papa Drew?_ ” Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and counted to ten. Tomorrow would be his second 18th birthday.

Tomorrow, he could become Joey Drew once again.

But until then, he’ll spend time with this new family. He had an elder sister, Lucy, who was visiting from college, and while he remembered everything from his past life, he had the opportunity to be a kid again… Plus Lucy was his favorite, though he’d deny it if he was ever questioned about it.

Sitting back on his bed, he glanced at all the different newspapers, doing his best to avoid one in particular. Fredrick had been the best secretary he ever had, and he had willingly sacrificed himself to make sure _everyone_ got out of the studio alive… He couldn’t have asked for a better friend.

* * *

A few hours later found him and Norman, who was still able to hold his last name of Polk thanks to his great-great-grandson, sitting outside of the Davis house under the cottonwood. “When are you going to tell them?” The sixteen year old asked, making Joey grimace. “And _not_ about the name change.”

“They’d never believe me,” Joey muttered, the paperwork confirmed the legal name change in hand. “Yours only believe you because you were able to tell stories to those who knew you. This family… never knew the original Joey Drew. They’d think I was crazy, or just trying to get attention,” Norman sighed, but shrugged.

“Ok… any clue as to _why_ we’re alive again and why I’m _younger_ than you?” he asked, getting another shake.

“No. If I had my tombes, it would be a completely different story! I just… don’t know how to write to Henry without sounding utterly crazy… and making him hate me.”

“One step at a time Drew,” Norman sighed, standing and dusting himself off. “We should get back inside before they send out a search party.”


	2. Chapter #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey returns to the Studio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go visit ask-joeydrewstudios.tumblr.com! The mun's birthday happened a "few" days ago, when I meant to post this chapter. Sorry fren.

Ten days later, Joey found himself walking through new doors into an almost identical building, the only difference being there were no ink machine pipes poking through the walls. Pressing an ear to the waiting room wall, he could hear the rush of the ink through the pipes. He knew it wasn’t water because the Cursed Ink was sluggish, and there had to be high pressure, which makes the pitch tone higher. “Mister Davis?” He heard someone asked, sounding suspicious. That wasn’t good.

“Sorry, thought I heard something,” he said, turning and freezing. He  _ knew _ that face. “Josiah Davis,” he managed to say. It was better to use his old name; coming in and asking for a job as Joey Drew would… raise many red flags.

“Stephen Lawrence,” the two shook hands, Joey still stunned. It seemed like yesterday he was just some snotty nosed 12 year old, and now he was… going on 40… “Mister Batim asked me to talk to you before meeting.”

“Understandable,” he nodded, slowly crawling out of his stupor. “I want to be an animator. I grew up watching the cartoons, and drawing is something as a second nature to me. I-I have a few papers here,” Offering the sheets, he watched as Stephen’s eyes widened. “I liked the old cartoons better; the ones from opening to the mid 50’s.”

“This looks almost like… like how Joey used to draw.” he glanced at the man before glancing back down. “I think uncle -- erm, Mister Batim will see you now.” He was lead into what would’ve been his old office, where an aged Henry sat behind the desk, empty scene sheets in front of the visitor sheet as well as a pencil.

“I’d like you to draw a scene about how you think Alice Angel Fell.” he said after doing a quick look at his sketches. Swallowing thickly, he nodded, but hesitated as his hand hovered over the pencil. “Something wrong?”

“I’m used to using ink,” he admitted, making the elder laugh slightly. A pen was handed to him, and he began the scene making, still amazed at how quick he was. In his old age, he had slowed down, even if he tried to deny it. As he finished the last detail on the final panel, he felt like he somehow did too much; no one but himself would know how Alice truly fell, as he had written it in shorthand in notes that didn’t quite make it all the way to his apprentice.

Hovering over the paper, he recalled all those years ago the weeks he had spent slaving over his desk, none of the toons created yet. He had only just hired Henry, and he had needed to test him to see how good he was with  _ new _ characters.

With a quiet nod, the man began to draw out a rough sketch of heaven, a sweet looking angel standing with a mirror in hand. Someone called for her, and she started walking, still gazing in the mirror. She walked all the way to the edge, and by the time she realized this, it was too late and she was plummeting to the ground, where Bendy peeked out behind a tree.

It was still hard for his hands to draw everyone, but due to years of training, he made less mistakes than what he had usually done back in his prime. Setting the pen down, he glanced up at the clock, eyes widening at the time. “I’m sorry for taking two hours!” he said, but Henry just chuckled and waved his hand.

“Thank you for coming in,” he said, but Joey shook his head.

“Thank you for allowing me to come in,” he corrected with a sad smile. Stephen led him outside, standing on the sidewalk and watching the man walk away before going back inside and whistling lowly.

“He gives Grandpa Drew a run for his money,” he said as both he and Henry glanced over the comic strip again. “Seems like a spunky one too.”

“He’ll do this company some good,” Henry agreed, not quite understanding what he had gotten himself into.


	3. Chapter #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry has a few questions for Joey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A surprise chapter that I've kept underwraps from Liz.

For the first few weeks, life in the studio as the new employee was…

_ Boring _ . 

Where were the toons? Where were his children? He couldn’t just go up to Henry and demand to see them, and trying to sneak around the studio would be a sure-fire way to get, well, fired. So, of course, he forced himself to suck it up and continue making panels, marvelling at the colors some of the more senior animators did.

A sharp sense of regret filled him; why couldn’t he have waited just a few more years before creating the toons in  _ colored _ ink? The thought was only brief and filled him with shame a second later, causing him to shake his head before he continued to draw out the newer panels.

He failed to notice the curious figure peeking out from around the corner.

* * *

“Mister Davis?”

Partially jumping at Henry’s voice, Joey turned to his old apprentice. “Yes Mister Batim?” he asked, confusion in his tone. Had he done something wrong?

“Call me Henry, please.” He said before motioning him into the office. “I’d like to speak to you for a minute if that’s alright?” Glancing at the papers in his arms that needed to be taken to Stephen, he debated for half a second before nodding.

“What do you wish to speak about Henry?” The name came easily, and when he saw the confirmation in those brown eyes, Joey knew he was caught. “What gave me away?”

“You rolled the ‘r’ and wrote in shorthand on some of the sheets you gave to Ryan.” The elder answered, a sad smile crawling up his face. “I must admit, I didn’t even recognize you when you first applied.”

“New genetics,” he shrugged. “And I’m several decades younger than when you last saw and recognized me as, well,  _ me _ .” Carefully setting the papers down, he took a seat in the chair and sighed. “Norman’s back as well. Two years younger than me. We don’t know how,” he glanced around the shelves, immediately spotting a familiar black book.

“I’m only going to say this once,” Henry drawled. “ _ No demonic rituals _ . Besides, that book isn’t the same one you had. The original was lost in the fire.” Both took a moment to grimace. “Why did you return to the studio? You have a brand new life ahead of you…”

“Henry… the studio, the  _ toons _ … They  _ are _ my life. I gave up my soul again, and when I heard about the fire… if Norman hadn’t been there, I would’ve revealed myself then.”

At the mention of the fire, the elder man sighed. “The toons would never believe us if we tell them.”

“Maybe because we haven’t been “introduced” yet,” Joey snorted without thinking and froze as soon as it had clicked what had happened. Henry just chuckled and took the papers from the younger man.

“Go home for the day. I’ll introduce you four again tomorrow.”


	4. Chapter #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey is "introduced" to the toons

Joey paced in a familiar but different apartment addition as he heard the toons and Henry talking in the background. Why were they needed in the office? Did they do something bad? Did this new employee do something wrong? Did he need to be pranked?

“ _ No, Bendy, he’s not to be pranked. In fact, he’s ready to be introduced to you guys _ .” The door popped open slightly. “ _ Joseph? _ ”

Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the apartment and was ready to start crying as he saw Alice in a pretty red sundress, Borin in deep green overalls and Bendy sporting a light pink tie; one of  _ his _ old ties. “You…” he said softly, freezing as he saw one thing he’d never expect in all of their eyes.

_ Anger _ .

“You’re trying to replace him!” Bendy hissed, sending waves of shock through the younger man’s body.

“What?” he whispered, sharing a confused look with Henry. “I… I’m not trying to replace anyone?”

“Henry… why do we have to meet now?” Alice asked, her tone far more carefully put together.

“Because… some of the spells Joey did… they had consequences, one of them being a type of resurrection.” Henry started carefully, and like that, Joey knew this wasn’t going to work.

“Resurrection implies same soul, same body,” The demon snapped. “This…  _ imposter _ can’t be our Papa Drew! They look nothing alike!” He stayed frozen as the ink demon’s tail whipped back and forth, black eyes meeting his defiantly. “Don’t look at me!”

Boris followed his brother out the door, leaving him, Alice and Henry alone.  “May I speak with  _ Davis _ alone, please?” she asked, tone ice cold. Henry sighed, but went into the apartment.

“Alice,” he began, tone unsure.

“How  _ could _ you?” He flinched at the venom in her voice. “How could you prey on Henry like that? How could you try to make  _ us _ believe that you were  _ him _ ?”

“But-,”

“ _ But. Nothing _ .” There was no calming her down, he realized a half second too late. He had never seen his precious daughter this angry. “You are  _ not _ him! You will never  _ be _ him!”

“Alice-,”

“ _ You will never be Papa Drew! _ ”

* * *

When Joey didn’t show up for work after a week, Henry was far beyond worry.

He was angry.

He wasn’t angry at Joey, however; he had heard everything Alice had said and then some. He wasn’t angry at the toons; he could understand their anger because for the first few weeks, he had been in their position.

He was angry at himself, for not realizing just how much of a  _ Bad Idea _ it was until it was too late. Far too late…

So, he had the studio close early and he made his way to the small apartment that was supposed to be Joey’s address, blinking in surprise at a slightly familiar face. “Norman?” he asked, getting a short nod. “I need to talk to Joey.”

“He’s busy,” the teen said. “But seeing as he’s been nothin’ but mopey since wednesday, I can let you slide.” he stepped back, allowing the man to brush past him, heading towards where he assumed the bedroom was. “When did you figure it out?”

“When he came in for the interview,” he chuckled. “You two have always remembered?”

“For the most part, yes,” Norman shrugged before rapping his knuckles on the door. “Joey, you got company, and I’m not gonna let you sulk around anymore!”


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ink Machine runs out of Cursed Ink

It seemed like each day Joey came in for work, the toons' "pranks" got worse and worse. Old fashioned ink in his tea, cursed ink above his door. They weren't just doing their welcome-to-the-family pranks, oh no, they were trying to get him to _leave_ the Studio.

Henry was having none of it, of course, and whenever he saw a prank about to happen, the toons were quick to stop it, less they were scolded. Finally, there came a day where he couldn’t put it off anymore.

The Ink Machine was somehow out of demonic ink.

Henry wouldn’t -- _couldn’t_ \-- curse the ink they had; his original grimoire had burned with the original building. He was the only one who knew the ritual, and as he looked between the nervous, shaking toons and the pacing Henry, he took a deep breath. _This is my only chance_ , he thought as Henry walked back into his office. Jumping up, he ignored the toons’s cries as he beelined for the machine, taking a slight moment to frown at the ritual set up before quickly correcting it. Locking all the doors and sopping up any ink that could’ve worked as a door for the toons, he grabbed the otherwise normal looking knife and took a deep breath.

It had been… decades since he had to curse ink. Most of it must’ve burned, he realized suddenly. If there hadn’t been a fire, there would’ve been more ink…

 _Now’s not the time Drew_ , he mentally snapped before recounting the steps and words needed. “ _Vetus diis, exaudi orationem meam, da in manu mea et accipies sanguinem meum, et indigent manere liberum atramento._ ” He felt something wrap around his body, around his _soul_ and forced himself to stay calm as he neatly cut the back of his arm. When he first did this, he had done his palm and was out for two weeks. Now, of course, he knew better.

Sure enough, as soon as the first drop hit the pentagram, the ink began bubbling and took a darker shade, making him grin in relief. His babies would not die today.

That’s when, of course, the machine malfunctioned and the newly cursed ink exploded all over him. 

* * *

 

When he woke up, he wasn’t in the infirmary. Rather, he was on a familiar ink-stained floor with an equally familiar man kneeling next to him. “Where am I?” he mumbled, fumbling for his very much needed glasses, still squinting through the dim light to see his companion’s face. “ _Henry?!_ ”

“ _Joey?_ ” The not-quite-as-old man replied in the same disbelieving tone. “Why do you look so… young?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” he mumbled. “You look twenty years younger than I remember… where are we? Why does it look familiar?”

“Joey… we’re in the Studio.” something in the man’s tone had him pause and look around, dread filling him. “You asked to meet me here.”

“No… not me,” he whispered. Here he was, in the original studio… where he died… where it all began. “It could’ve have been me. The Machine… it displaced me!” The sharp stinging on his arm proved his point and as the ink dripped down from the ceiling, he quickly pulled off his vest and wrapped it around his arm. “This is going to sound crazy, but I’m _not_ the Joey Drew you know.”

“Not as crazy as it sounds,” Henry chuckled, offering him a hand up. “My Joey couldn’t walk.”

“Before I came back as this, I was wheelchair bound for those last few weeks. It made getting to the rest of the studio… nearly impossible.” He grimaced at this as the two walked towards the machine, it being… smaller than he remembered. 

* * *

 

“Will he be ok?” Norman asked as he sat at Joey’s side, the steady sound of the heart monitor in the background.

“He should wake up tomorrow,” Henry sighed, rubbing his face as Dianne squeezed the young adult’s hand. “Damnit, I should’ve seen this coming. He should’ve at least waited for me to come back out.”

“You couldn’t’ve known snookums,” the woman sighed before pulling an uncomfortable face and rubbing her jaw.

“Are you alright darling?” he asked, fear spiking in him, but she just smiled and waved him off.

“Fine, dear. It’s Joey I’m concerned for. How did the toons react to seeing him covered in…” she tailed off and motioned to the man who, for the time being, looked like a skeleton covered in honey-like ink. He knew what happened, but he also knew it would wear off as soon as the person woke up.

“Poorly, especially when they realized their waste of ink caused the machine to explode like that.” Sitting beside his wife, they linked their free hands and waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Resources used:  
> http://www.heart.org/HEARTORG/Conditions/HeartAttack/WarningSignsofaHeartAttack/Heart-Attack-Symptoms-in-Women_UCM_436448_Article.jsp#.WutatYgvzIU
> 
> Translation:  
> Vetus diis, exaudi orationem meam, da in manu mea et accipies sanguinem meum, et indigent manere liberum atramento. --> Gods of Old, hear my plea, take my blood and give to me the ink they need to stay free.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joey's trip to Canon!Verse

He knew this wasn’t his world, but he couldn’t stop his panicked yell as Bendy’s demonic form grasped at Henry, a distinct ripping around filling the air as the young adult ripped the man back away from the boarded up area.

“Run!” Henry yelled as soon as he was steady, and the two began to make a mad dash for the Studio’s exit, ink pumping to broken pipes, flooding the room. The second that Joey’s hand touched the doorknob, he had a sudden sense of lightness before gravity kicked back in, and he tumbled down the slope to a new room, ribs hurting.

“Are you ok?” he wheezed out to the older man, who gave a weak thumbs up. “Good. I think I just broke a rib. Who's the dumbass who broke the pipes and put this drop here?”

“You,” Henry replied in the driest tone possible. “You are the dumbass.” letting a groan sound, the man reluctantly sat up, wincing at the feeling of his ribs. “It isn't like that at your place?”

“This studio burned down in the 70s when I was a preteen,” he wouldn't deny the bitter tone in his voice. “And even when it was still up, staff safety was first and foremost my goal. This Joey Drew is  _ not  _ **_me_ ** .”

Henry looked at him carefully before sighing and offering him a hand up. “I know you're not. You're better than him already.”

* * *

He was only a few steps ahead of Henry when he turned to see no one around him. “Oh very funny!” He called out, annoyed. “Henry? You have the axe,” and yet no words came. Frowning, he continued down the hall, the pain in his ribs and scratches from those “searchers" aching more and more with each step. “Henry, this isn't funny!”

There was a noise behind him, and he snapped around, seeing a shadow dart behind a bookcase. Fear filled him as he remembered his darling Bendy and how he had went… demonic…

“H-Henry?” he called out, voice shaking and breaking. There was a pause and a small sniff before a slender leg poked out, followed by a gloved hand and familiar face, filled with fear and wonder. “Alice?”

“Allison,” she corrected quietly, eyes darting around. “I used to be Allison Pendle. I'm not “Alice".”

His heart broke like that. “No, you aren't,” he agreed quietly. “Have you seen Henry? I… I was just with him.”

She let out a soft grunt and stepped forward, looking at him closely. “Lawrence got him. Bends will probably get the “believer” before Henry.”

Bowing his head, he felt Allison grab his arm and lead him through a series of vents and secret passages, all the way up until they came into a familiar room.  _ His _ old room.

Sitting down, he did his best not to flinch as she began to treat the wounds she could see. “How can you stand to look at me?” he finally blurted out. “How, when I look like the man who damned you all?”

“Because you're not him. Sure, you  _ look _ like him, but you aren't. You've already shown too much empathy to be like him.” she shrugged. “What's your world like? Do you know me?”

Part of him wanted to lie and say yes, that she was a wonderful voice actress, but… “No. In all the years I've ran the studio, I've never heard of an Allison Pendle.”

“Shame. Your world sounds like it's a million times better already,” she sighed.  “Better get comfy. Until Boris comes back, there's not much we'll be able to do.”

Sorrow made this throat clench as he remembered his wolf-son, strapped to the table with his heart torn out. “Allison… Boris… Boris is  _ dead _ ,” his voice failed and tears made his vision watery as she looked at him in shock.

“But… I just saw him before I saw you. He went after Lawrence and Henry.” she argued, though her tone was muted.

“He was up on the first floor, all strapped to the table with his heart torn out,” he couldn't get the image out of his head as he put his hands over his face, trying to block out the tears.

“First floor? We haven't been there in  _ years _ .” she blinked at him in confusion. “I… I think there's something more going on here.”

* * *

He fell asleep listening to Allison’s hums, and when he woke up, there was a familiar looking nurse above him, humming the same song he had fallen asleep to.

He didn't move and quickly shut his eyes, waiting until she left his room before he sat up, head pounding as the smell of cursed ink wafted over him, making his head feel light.

_ Allison Pendle _ , he mused after taking a deep breath and swinging his aching legs over the edge of the bed.  _ She's happy here as a nurse… _

And yet all he could think about was the horror he inflicted to the studio staff in that other dimension, the  _ right _ dimension.


End file.
